Opacity
by AuntyL
Summary: While on Risa, Jon's vacation doesn't go to plan. How does he cope with the aftermath?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own absolutely, positivity, nothing. CBS does. So I'm not making any money out of it, I'm just taking my favourite people for a spin around the universe...

This is in response to the August AU challenge at The Delphic Expanse, which was...

You will be assigned an episode at random, and write a story that imagines the consequences if that episode had ended differently.

My episode was Two Days and Two Nights.

This story has a dose of nearly everything...

Friendship - Jon/Trip Slash by the end.

Het

Angst

Drama

Action

Violence

Humor

Rated NC17 due to 1 het sex scene, and violence.

This is Jon/Trip centric, however, all the crew do make an appearance.

Anyhoo, my thanks to Tish who beta'd this for me. *hugs*

Okie dokie then, here ya go...

* * *

><p>Heat rushed through his body in an aching need as he kissed her forcefully - hungrily.<p>

He moaned when their tongues met, entwining in the dance of nature's force.

Frantically undressing each other, they stumbled up the steps to the captain's bedroom loft.

The captain didn't break their kiss when the back of his legs came into contact with the king sized bed. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Keyla and pulled her with him as they collapsed onto the mattress.

His gasped when Keyla's naked body made contact with his. He ran his hands roughly over her supple breasts - her erect nipples.

Overwhelmed with lust, Archer broke the kiss and quickly took her left nipple into his mouth, sucking like a man dying of thirst.

He groaned, and engulfed her nipple deeper, when he felt her hand on his arousal, caressing him hard.

Sweat itched down his back, and his chest heaved with desire as twisted, covering his naked body over hers, thrusting urgently as pleasure raced to his groin.

The spell was broken when he felt a sharp sting on his arm. Archer slowed, and laughed breathlessly. "I think your nails need…"

The rest of his sentence was cut short when his head spun, and his stomach churned. The room swam in his vision as rough hands rolled him onto his back. He closed his eyes, trying to quell the nausea that threatened to rise from his stomach.

"What's going on?" Archer tried to ask, but his tongue felt swollen, and his lips refused to move. The captain forced his eyes opened, and found himself staring into dark eyes.

It was the last thing he saw…

* * *

><p>"Should we contact the captain and tell him about Travis?" Crewman Cutler asked as she fussed with the sheet that covered Doctor Phlox.<p>

T'Pol contemplated the question while she checked on Ensign Mayweather. The ensign's breathing had stabilized and his pallor had returned to near normal, though he still seemed to be quite unaware of his surroundings. Overall, T'Pol thought he appeared to be improving.

The Sub-Commander folded her arms behind her back. "As the ensign seems to be recovering well, I see no reason to interrupt the captain's recreational time," she finally answered.

Cutler smiled. "And what should we do with Phlox?" she asked patting the inert from under the sheet lightly.

T'Pol raised an eyebrow at the tender gesture but said nothing as she walked over to where the doctor had fallen asleep once more. "There is no point in trying to awaken him and return him to his quarters," she said turning toward the door. "It would be best to let him continue his hibernation where he is currently lying."

"Aye, Sub-Commander."

* * *

><p>"You did well, my dear."<p>

"Thank you, my love."

_I know those voices,_ Archer thought sluggishly.

"What are we going to do now?"

"Keyla?" the captain tried to say, but was surprised when no sound materialized.

He attempted to swallow and clear his throat to try again, but his mouth was as dry as a desert. He couldn't get any saliva going.

"Well, Keyla, we're going to get the truth from our dear captain."

Archer's pulse raced when he finally recognized the man's voice. He frantically tried turning his head and opening his eyes, but his muscles refused to cooperate.

"And how are you going to do that?"

Archer felt a prick on his arm.

"Just wait and see my dear."

The captain fought to open his eyes so he could look at the man that had put him and Ensign Mayweather through hell, but his body still refused to obey his mind.

"He appears to be waking," Keyla said.

Archer groaned as he finally managed to open his eyes to stare at the distorted face before him. "Grat," he rasped.

Colonel Grat curled his lips. "Welcome back, Captain."

Archer willed his eyes to focus on Keyla who was standing slightly behind Grat. There was something in her eyes that the captain couldn't quite recognize, but for the moment he had uglier things to worry about.

"Waddya want, you sonofabitch?" he slurred, still unable to get his mouth moving properly.

"What I want, Captain, is information," Grat said.

"We've been through this before. I don't know anything."

"Oh… I beg to differ, Captain."

The captain tried to sit up but could only raise his head. He looked around confused and for the first time noticed that his hands and feet were tied to the bed. "You won't get away with this. _Enterprise_ will come for me," he hissed.

Grat walked along the length of the bed. "I believe that you are not due back at your ship for another twelve hours. That gives us plenty of time to get reacquainted, Captain. And for me to find out all I want to know."

Archer squirmed when pain flared in his chest.

"Oh, and I must inform you that the drug we've used," Grat preened as he ran his fingers over the captain's chest until he reached Archer's face. "Is highly experimental," he said lifting the captain's chin. "I have no idea how it will affect the human body, but it proved quite effective against the Suliban that we recaptured."

Archer felt sick at the thought that Danik and his daughter, Narra, would be back at the mercy of this monster; he only hoped that they were the ones that got away.

"They didn't know much. This I knew," Grat continued cocking an eyebrow. "But they were very helpful in assisting me in tracking you down."

Archer's heart started to beat faster and sweat trickled down his face. He wasn't sure if it was from the drugs Grat had administered, or if his fear was starting to take hold, but whatever it was, he didn't like the demented look of the man in front of him.

Grat stroked his fingers along the captain's cheek. "One in particular told me where you were going." Grat pinned his eyes on the captain. "The Torothan home world."

Archer's heart skipped a beat.

"I heard that you had quite an adventure. I do hope that Commander Tucker is fully recovered. From what I saw earlier," Grat smirked, "he appears to have not learned his lesson about exposing himself to danger."

"You leave the commander out of this," Archer warned.

"Oh, I have no interest in Commander Tucker, though he may prove to be useful if you refuse to answer my questions."

Archer looked at Keyla then back at Grat. "What do you want with the cabal?"

"I'll keep that to myself," Grat said.

Archer gasped when pain itched at his skin.

Grat stroked the captain's face again. "Don't worry, Captain," he baited. "Scream as much as you like. No one will hear you."

Archer frowned. "What are you…"

Then it hit - pain so intense that it sucked the air right out of him, closing his throat so that he couldn't emit a sound.

Archer squirmed as another wave of fire ran through his body. He tried to curl into a ball, but even that proved fruitless. He was tied down. He groaned when another surge of pain assaulted his body.

Closing his eyes, he thought of one person. "Trip…"

* * *

><p>To Be Continued…<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Trip strode ahead to get away from Malcolm's continued grumblings. He could see the funny side of what happened, but Malcolm didn't. "Stodgy, Brit," he mumbled.

Trip smiled. The look on the patrons faces, as he and Malcolm walked purposefully through the reception area in their blue underwear, was priceless. Not so priceless, however, was the look on crewman Rostov's face as they approached the shuttlepod.

"What are we going to tell everyone?" Malcolm whispered angrily.

"I dunno," Trip answered from the corner of his mouth.

"It's your fault that we're in this position," Malcolm griped.

"Malcolm, we've had this discussion already," Trip hissed.

Malcolm groaned. "What's the captain going to think?"

Trip knew it was a rhetorical question, but he answered all the same. "He'll see the funny side." He turned his head slightly and eyed Malcolm. "It's T'Pol I'm worried about."

Malcolm rolled his eyes and groaned again.

"Evening, Sirs," Rostov greeted.

There was a smirk on the crewman's face that Trip could see Malcolm was wishing to wipe off, but Trip understood why the young man found their predicament funny. He did!

"Crewman," Malcolm grunted as he climbed into the shuttle.

Trip gave Rostov a wink as he followed the lieutenant inside, leaving the young man chuckling in his wake.

As he headed to a seat at the back of the shuttled, Trip saw that Hoshi was already waiting in the seat behind the pilot's chair.

"Commander," she greeted.

"Hoshi, you're looking relaxed," he told her.

Hoshi smiled in answer, but Trip could see that glint in her eyes. "Dammit," he growled under his breath, jealous that the ensign seemed to have found her vacation more successful than his.

Trip huffed as he planted himself in his seat.

* * *

><p>His body trembled, his chest hurt. Archer stared at the ceiling. <em>How long? <em>he thought as another wave of pain assaulted his body. _How long have I been here? How long before someone comes for me?_

He knew he should have felt shame when he cried again. But he didn't have the energy.

"Where do they come from?"

"I don't know…"

"What other enhancements have they made?"

"I don't know…"

He closed his eyes again when heat rose through his body and burned at his skin. _Oh, god, please leave me alone…_

"You've come into contact with the Cabal. You know more than you're telling me. I will find…"

"I can't tell you what I don't know…"

_I want to scream, but I can't force the air out of my lungs…_

"Tell me what you know, Captain…"

_I'm burning… burning… My whole body is burning… _

"Please make it stop," he tried crying out, but his plea ended up nothing more than a whimper.

"Maybe we should tone down the drugs…"

Archer heard Keyla's voice, and prayed to whatever god who would listen that Grat would agree.

"No! He knows. He's just being stubborn…"

He wept when the pain tore at his insides. _I want to tear at my skin, but my hands are restrained. How do I stop the burning? _

"Where do I find the Cabal?"

_Oh God! I can't breathe… _

"Please… I don't know anything," the captain choked out. He looked at Keyla, hoping she'd do something to make it all stop, but all he got in return was a dead look.

The captain arched his back as the pain overwhelmed him. "Please…."

_How long?_

Darkness finally came…

* * *

><p>Trip looked around. "The Capt'n not here yet?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.<p>

"Not yet, Commander," Rostov answered from the entrance of the shuttle.

Malcolm chuckled. "Maybe he's been caught up in some _diplomatic_ discussions and has forgotten the time?"

Trip heard the muffled laughter around the shuttle at the lieutenant's innuendo; however, he wasn't so sure and reached for the comm panel. "Tucker to Enterprise," he called.

"Good morning, Mr. Tucker. I trust that you are feeling rested?" T'Pol answered.

Trip brushed aside her question. "T'Pol, can you hail the captain?"

"Commander?"

"He's not here yet. It's not like him to be late," he told her.

Trip could feel the eyes of the others on him as he stared at the comm panel, silently willing for T'Pol to tell him that the captain had indeed lost track of time, and that was all there was all to it.

But he didn't think so.

Trip's skin crawled when T'Pol finally answered.

"We are unable to contact the Captain," she advised calmly, though Trip heard her concern.

"Scan for his bio-sign?" he ordered. Trip waited in silence again, but the suspense was killing him. Something wasn't right. He could feel it in his gut.

"The captain is in his hotel suite, however his life signs are erratic and weak," she answered, gravely.

Trip flew out the shuttle before T'Pol had time to finish, knocking Rostov out of his way as he did, and ran for all his worth. He heard Malcolm call after him, but ignored his plea to wait. His friend was in trouble, that's all he was concerned about.

Trip was oblivious to the stares of startled onlookers crowded in the plaza as he ran in the direction of the hotel the captain was staying. He ignored the shouts of disgruntled guests and staff as he pushed them aside as he ran through the foyer. The only thing Trip was focused on as he took the stairs leading to the captain's floor three at a time, was his friend.

He didn't bother pressing the call button when he reached the captain's room, but kept going as he slammed the control to open the door and ran inside.

Porthos barking from the upstairs area caught Trip's attention immediately. He took the stairs three at a time.

Trip stopped short when his eyes fell on his friend. "Capt'n," he yelled then quickly moved to the bed where his friend was lying naked and tied to the posts. His heart pounded against his ribs as he noticed the sweat that ravished the captain's body, and helplessly took in the injured man's struggle to breath.

"What the hell happened," he growled as he quickly undid the ties that were binding his friend.

"Trip?" the captain rasped then rolled on his side and groaned.

"Take it easy, I'm here now," he soothed as he undid the last tether.

Trip spun around when Malcolm burst into the room, quickly followed by Hoshi. "The captain had his communicator on him. Find it and hail Enterprise. We need to get him back," he ordered.

Malcolm and Hoshi nodded then set about frantically searching room.

Trip left them to it and turned his attention back to the captain. "Cap'n, who did this to you?" he asked quietly as he pulled a sheet over his friend and lifted the captain's head to cradle him in his arms.

Trip's stomach turned into knots as he rocked Jon's trembling body.

The captain forced his eyes to focus. "Grat," he whispered. "Colonel Grat."

"Bastard," Trip spat then pushed his anger aside when Jon shook violently and groaned. "It's okay," he soothed again wiping Jon's damp hair. "Malcolm?" he growled.

"I can't find it, Sir," came the unwanted answer.

"Then get your ass back to the shuttle and get help," he ordered looking up. He didn't care that he sounded desperate, he was, but by the look in the lieutenant's eyes, it didn't seem to matter. "Go quickly," he added more calmly.

As He watched the lieutenant race out the door he silently urged Malcolm to fly like the wind. He turned his attention to Jon when he started to mumble. "What?"

"I don't know anything," he rambled then shivered.

Trip rocked the captain harder. "It's okay, he's gone now," he tried to calm, but Jon squirmed in his arm.

Trip's heart seemed to stop when the captain arched his back and screamed.

"Oh, god, what did he do to you?" he gasped holding the captain as tight as he could. Not knowing what else to do, Trip rocked back and forth, trying somehow to ease the captain's pain. "Where's that damned help," he growled.

He jumped when a hand appeared in front of his face. He looked up and found Hoshi with a damp cloth in her hands standing to his side. "I'm sure Malcolm is going as fast as he can," she told him quietly.

Trip dropped his head, justifiably chastised. He said nothing for a minute as he took deep breaths to calm his raging anger.

He reached out his hand. "Thanks," he said taking the cloth and did his best to cool the captain's burning body.

As time ticked away, Jon squirmed and groaned. His temperature kept rising. His heartbeat raced.

"C'mon," Trip pleaded then felt relief when a familiar tingle raced through his body. "Thank you…"

Before he knew it, Hoshi disappeared, replaced by the bright lights of the transporter room.

* * *

><p>To Be Continued…<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Travis smiled sleepily. Despite his mishap, he had a great time on Risa. The food, the entertainment, the women…

If it hadn't been for the shifting rock face, which resulted in him coming back to _Enterprise_ early, he would have gone back to his hotel and sought out a certain female who held his attention.

_Well, I think she was female_, he thought happily then chuckled at the memory of one of his uncles being duped by shift changing females. _What if…_

His musings were interrupted when voices penetrated his drugged up mind.

"I don't have the experience to deal with this type of emergency." He heard Liz Cutler say.

"What emergency?" Travis asked no one in particular.

"I am confident that you will handle the situation competently," came T'Pol's even reply.

"So am I," Travis contributed nodding happily.

"Sub-commander, I really think we should get help from the surface," Liz said.

"Help? Help for whom" Travis asked then shook his head when something niggled at the back of his mind. He turned his attention to Crewman Cutler. "Why are you scared?" he asked, looking around. "And why isn't anyone answering me?"

His questions unanswered, Travis settled for eavesdropping instead.

"As we have already witnessed, Risa's medical treatments are not compatible with human needs," T'Pol said.

"What about Phlox?" Liz asked.

"Yeah, what 'bout Phlox," Travis slurred. He didn't expect an answer, but that didn't stop him from participating in _this _conversation.

"It will take time for him to reawaken to be focused enough to be of any assistance," T'Pol said.

"You're way too uptight, Sub-commander," Travis offered.

"Sub-commander!" Liz pleaded.

"C'mon, Liz, you can do this. Whatever _this_ is," Travis mumbled.

"Do your best, Crewman," T'Pol urged.

"Oooo… A bit of compassion, Sub-commander," Travis giggled. "Betta not let anyone else hear that you have a heart."

Travis giggled again then turned his head in the other direction when urgent shouting echoed through the doors.

"Hey, Commander," he waved lazily as Trip entered. "How's your holiday…" Travis quickly sobered when he noticed the bundle in the commander's arms. "Captain!"

* * *

><p>"Just hang on, Cap'n, hang on," Trip urged as he ran through the corridor carrying his heavy burden that adrenalin charged muscles enabled him to bear.<p>

Crewman Kelly had offered to help him get the captain to sickbay, but Trip had refused. He wasn't letting go, not until he reached help.

"Get outta my way," Trip screamed to the few people who were blocking his path.

He rushed past the crew and raced through the open doors to sickbay, ran over to a biobed, then as gently as he could, Trip laid the captain down. He looked around frantically and saw Phlox laid out on one of the biobeds. "What's wrong with Phlox?" he asked, trying to keep his panic at bay.

He saw Cutler shoot T'Pol a careful look.

"Doctor Phlox is currently stirring from hibernation," T'Pol told him calmly.

Trip raced over to Phlox and looked incredulously at the sleeping form. "Whaddya mean hibernation?"

"At this time, Doctor Phlox is attempting to waken from his deep sleep. Until then, Crewman Cutler is quite capable of tending to the captain's needs…"

"Captain, please, I'm trying help!" Liz Cutler's voice intruded.

Trip spun just in time to see the captain push the crewman away and jump off the bed.

"Let GO OF ME…" he yelled.

Trip raced to his side. "It's okay, Cap'n, it's okay," he soothed and tried to take hold of his arm to lead him back to the bed, but the man was full of terror-filled strength and pushed him to the deckplating.

Trip ignored his winded state and quickly rose to his feet. "Please, Jon, let me help," he pleaded as the panicked captain frantically looked around sick bay. Trip hoped that the captain would listen, he didn't like the idea of having to tackle his sick friend to the ground, but he would do just that if he had to.

His hope flew out the door when Jon bolted toward the exit to sickbay. Trip ran to cut him off, and with a heavy heart, tackled the captain to the deckplating.

He took hold of the man's flailing hands and held them tight against his chest. "Jon it's okay, it's me! Just take it easy," he urged as he held fast, trying to stop the captain's frantic movements.

"No... No... I don't know anything," Archer moaned, tossing his head from side to side.

"I know you don't," Trip tried to calm him. He stared at Cutler. "Can't you give him anything?"

"Not until I can run a scan to see what's wrong with him," she said.

"I'm sure he's been drugged," Trip said, a little breathless from keeping Jon down.

"Yes, I'm sure he has, and until we know what drugs he's been given, I'll have to hold off giving him anything because it could make things worse."

As the captain continued to struggle under him, Trip watched Liz glance in Doctor Phlox's direction. He didn't envy the woman right now. He was on edge, and he knew he was venting all his fear at the ensign.

Trip's attention was drawn to the captain when he moaned. "C'mon, Cap'n," he urged, gently, taking a tighter hold of him before raising them both to their feet. Trip kept his grip firm around Jon's chest as he led his confused friend back to the biobed.

Trip's muscles tensed when the captain suddenly doubled over, wrapped his arms around his stomach, and groaned. Trip glared at T'Pol. "Get Phlox on his feet. NOW!" he ordered as he held his friend firmly.

"Doctor Phlox will be of no use until he is fully aware," T'Pol told him gently. "Until then, Crewman Cutler will do what she can."

Trip finally made it to the biobed. He slowly raised the captain up on the mattress, and pushed on his shoulders to get him to lie down. He kept his hands on Jon's heated chest to prevent the older man from trying to get up again, and turned his attention back to T'Pol. "What about Risa? Don't they have any doctors?"

"It has been established that Risan medical treatments are incompatible with humans," T'Pol answered, turning slightly.

It was only then that Trip noticed Travis for the first time. He looked a bit pale, and slightly out of it, but Trip saw the deep concern in his eyes. "What happened?"

T'Pol turned back. "That can wait. The captain's condition is the priority." She walked over to Trip. "We must allow Crewman Cutler to do what she can until Doctor Phlox can be of use."

Trip nodded, he knew T'Pol was right, but that didn't mean he liked it.

Trip spun around when he heard the doors open. He glared at the security officer as Malcolm entered, still dressed in his robe, with Hoshi by his side. "Colonel Grat did this to him," he growled to the security officer. His jaw locked with determination. "Track him down, Lieutenant."

Malcolm nodded. "Aye, Commander," he acknowledged then turned.

Trip spun back to Crewman Cutler, ignoring Hoshi who was still standing at the door. "Well?" he demanded.

* * *

><p>As Malcolm left sickbay he took one last glance at the captain.<p>

Trip still hovered over his friend, gently stroking Archer's drenched hair. His stomach clenched when the captain groaned.

"Everything's gonna be alright," he heard Trip's gentle encouragement.

Malcolm turned away from the heart breaking scene. "It will be," he promised vehemently then raced toward his quarters to change into his uniform so he could get to the bridge quickly and start the hunt.

"You have my word."

* * *

><p>To Be Continued…<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

"Dammit," Malcolm cursed as he rushed around his quarters getting changed. He was still having trouble trying to clear the images of the tortured captain out of his mind. How he had groaned and writhed in pain as Trip held onto him, how flushed and sweaty he was.

But it was the look in Trip's eyes that haunted him the most. He had never before seen that look of fear in the commander's eyes.

Fear that his friend was dying.

When he had run for all his might back to the shuttle, Malcolm had felt that same fear. His heart had pounded in his ears with the terrifying reality that he wouldn't be fast enough to save the captain. He still wasn't sure that he was and that it was too late to save Jonathan Archer.

"Shit!" Malcolm dropped onto his bunk and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm the security officer, I should have done…" He stood and paced his quarters. "Done what, Lieutenant? Anger stirred in the pit of his stomach. "Something. I should have done something."

Malcolm stopped his pacing and took a deep breath. "Clear your mind," he told himself, closing his eyes and drawing on his past training. "There was nothing you could have done."

He took a few more deep breaths, mentally locking the memories of the last thirty minutes into a corner of his mind, before turning to leave for Trip's quarters.

As the door closed behind him, icy determination was taking place of his fiery anger. "You're days are done, Grat," he pledged.

* * *

><p>The wild look in the commander's eyes concerned T'Pol considerably, as did the condition of the captain. She looked over to where Doctor Phlox was lying. "How long before the doctor wakes?" she asked Crewman Cutler.<p>

Liz cast a quick glance at Phlox while still trying to control the captain's movements. "I'm not sure. The stimulant isn't working as well as the first time."

T'Pol looked at Commander Tucker who was talking quietly to the captain. Though she understood the commander's concern, T'Pol thought it would be wise for him to return to his quarters and leave the ensign to tend her patient. "Commander!" she called, gently.

Trip looked up.

"It would be best if you…"

"I'm not leaving him, T'Pol."

"Crewman Cutler needs to…"

"I said." He glared into her eyes. "I'm not leaving him."

That wild look in the commander's eyes grew ferocious, and T'Pol briefly wondered how he would cope if the captain should die. She pushed the negative thought aside.

"As I can be of no assistance here, I will be on the bridge. Starfleet needs to be advised." T'Pol took one last look at the captain. "Keep me informed, Crewman," she instructed.

As she turned to leave, T'Pol was mildly startled to see that Ensign Sato was still standing at the entrance to sickbay. She looked extremely pale.

"Ensign, why don't you…"

"If it's all the same to you, Sub-Commander, as I'm still on leave, I'd like to stay."

T'Pol nodded. "As you wish," she said and continued her journey to the bridge.

* * *

><p>Hoshi held her hand to her throat, desperately attempting to suppress her repulsion at what had been done to her captain. "Why did he do this to you?" she asked, softly, then looked into the terrified eyes of her friend, Liz Cutler.<p>

Hoshi turned when Malcolm entered, looking flushed. "Why?" she asked him as he came to a stop next to her.

"Why what, Hoshi?" he inquired.

Hoshi looked over at the captain. "Why did they do this to him?"

Malcolm followed her gaze. "I don't know," he said gently. "How is he?" he asked quietly looking back at her.

Hoshi met his eyes. She could feel her pulse beating rapidly under her fingers. "He's in a bad way, Malcolm," she answered looking back at the captain. "Liz is doing what she can, but I don't…" Hoshi choked back the fear that suddenly made its way into her throat.

She took a few breaths before turning her attention back to Malcolm "Why are you here? I thought you were going to the bridge."

Malcolm held up a uniform. "I thought Trip might appreciate a change of clothes."

Hoshi smiled sadly. "I guess so." She gazed over to the commander, who was now curled up against her captain. "This is really hurting him," she said.

"I'm sure the captain is going to be fine," Malcolm soothed.

Hoshi looked at Malcolm. "I wasn't talking about the captain," she said turning her attention back to the commander. "Trip. I was talking about Trip."

Malcolm frowned. "I don't understand."

Hoshi smiled softly. "I know."

Malcolm shuffled his feet. "Why don't you go and get changed and meet me on the…"

"I want to stay here, Sir," Hoshi interrupted.

Malcolm rested his hand on her arm. "The best thing we can do right now for the captain is to concentrate on finding Grat."

Hoshi searched his eyes. She knew he was making sense, and she wanted nothing more than to track that bastard down, but she also wanted to be there for her captain, and friend. "I need to be here," she pressed.

Malcolm's eyes softened. "We need to find Grat, and I could use all the help I can get," he said gently. "Why don't you take a few minutes to get changed and grab something to eat before you go to the bridge to give me a hand?"

Hoshi cast one last look at the captain and commander. "Aye, Sir."

* * *

><p>Crewman Cutler watched the sub-commander leave then stared into the frightened eyes of her friend, Hoshi. Liz smiled to re-assure her, but it was a weak smile. She knew the odds of the captain surviving were not in their favor.<p>

Her eyes drifted to Malcolm as he entered and came to a stop next to Hoshi. Liz nodded curtly then turned her attention back to her patient.

"I don't know anything," Archer cried.

She looked at the commander who had curled himself up against the captain's back. "Shh, I know you don't," he said quietly, rocking them both.

The next instant, Liz jumped back in fright.

The captain's scream was primal, something she had never experienced before.

_I'm not qualified for this. I can't help him! _As the doubts assailed her, Liz looked up just in time to see Hoshi flee from sickbay. Her eyes met Malcolm's and she could tell that he was just as scared as she was.

"We have to do something."

Liz looked at the commander. "I'm sorry, Commander, but until Phlox wakes, there's nothing I can do."

Trip rocked the captain. "Then do what you can to wake him."

* * *

><p>Malcolm decided now was not the time to interrupt his friend. He quietly walked over to a nearby bench and left Trip's uniform there for him to change into later.<p>

He cast one last look at the god awful scene. "Time to go and hunt Grat down," he said under his breath, and headed for the bridge.

As he exited the lift, Malcolm noticed T'Pol sitting in the captain's chair. "Good evening, Sub-Commander," he greeted.

"Lieutenant, you are not due on the bridge until 0800 hours," she noted without looking up from the PADD she was working on.

"I wanted to get a start on looking for Grat," he replied as he sat at his station.

T'Pol finally raised her head. "That may not be necessary," she said.

Malcolm frowned. "Sub-Commander?"

T'Pol stood. "A decision has not been made regarding Colonel Grat," she said clasping her hands behind her back. "I am currently waiting on Admiral Forrest to return my call for further orders."

Malcolm sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. His instincts were telling him that something was up, and whatever that something was, it wasn't going to be good news. "I would have thought that the Admiral would be eager for us to locate Grat, especially after what Grat did to the captain," he finally said.

T'Pol strolled over to the tactical station. "What happened to the captain was unfortunate."

"What happened to the captain was criminal," Malcolm interrupted, leaving no doubt as to how he felt.

T'Pol bowed her head. "I apologize. It was a poor choice of words. However, we need to proceed logically in this instance. I have requested that the admiral discuss this with the Vulcan High Command. They are better equipped to deal with the colonel."

Just as Malcolm was about to respond, the lift door opened. His heart beat just that little faster when Hoshi appeared. Her eyes were red and puffy, obviously she had been crying, but there was also a determined look in those eyes that Malcolm had never seen before. He turned his attention back to T'Pol.

_You may not want justice, sub-commander, but we certainly do…_

* * *

><p>To Be Continued…<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

He felt something cold on his face and leaned into it, desperate to feel relief.

"Shh… it's okay, Cap'n, I'm here."

_No, you don't understand. I'm on fire_…

Jon grabbed Trip's arms. "Oh god, Trip, make it stop," he gasped as the burning continued to run through his veins.

"I can't."

He heard the despair in Trip's voice and forced his eyes open. "Help me," he begged then rolled onto his side, taking Trip with him, as pain sliced through his chest.

He tried to cough as his lungs blazed. _This has to be hell! I'm sure I'm in hell. Oh God! _He gasped. _I'm_ _paying for my mistakes. That's why I'm here… _"I've made so many of them."

"Many what, Jon…"

'_Coma. That sounds nice…'_

"Mistakes… Oh, god, I could've gotten you killed, Trip."

"No, Jon. I'm not hurt..."

'_You assaulted a member of my crew…'_

"I'm sorry, T'Pol. I should never…"

'C'mon, Jon, stay with me…"

'_I want to help them get out…'_

"Bad! Bad, bad, decision!"

"What decision…"

"I should've let it go."

"Liz, what's happening…"

"Should've left the Suliban where they were."

"Sshhh…" He felt Trip's soothing touch but it did little to cool the fire in his body.

"I… I don't know..." he heard Cutler say.

Their voices faded into the background when broken images flew into his memory.

'_Get the commander….'_

"No, no don't! Oh god, please, leave him alone," he moaned.

'_Then tell us…'_

"I don't know anything," Jon cried.

"Shh, I know you don't."

He calmed slightly when he felt Trip shift and cocoon his body against his, but it did little to stop his blood from boiling and his body from trembling.

"_I'm just slowing you down. Go." _

_A blinding light… _

"Trip! Have to protect Trip," he yelled.

"Oh, god, I'm okay," he heard Trip's panicked voice.

Jon tried to hold back the scream that sat in his belly, but the pain was too much. He felt Trip's grip tighten as his body shook violently and his roar of agony found its path.

* * *

><p><em>What is that incessant noise?<em> Phlox wondered as he rolled onto his side. _I do wish they would be quiet and let me sleep_.

At the edge of his consciousness Phlox knew he was listening to a man in pain and that he should be concerned, but the sandman was still beckoning him.

"Phlox…"

He swatted away the sound of his name being called, just like a bug. "Let me be," he mumbled, wrinkling his nose. He pulled the sheet tighter around himself and went back to his dreaming. _Now, where was I…_

"You need to try harder than that."

Phlox recognized the desperate voice. _I wonder what's gotten the good commander so uptight?_

He heard movement and shuffling around him, then a hand on his shoulder.

"Please, Phlox, we need you to wake up."

Her urgent plea finally stirred him, and he could never deny Crewman Cutler. Phlox forced his eyes open. "Crewman, what's going on," he slurred.

Before she could answer, frantic movement and screaming caught his attention. Phlox tried raising himself onto his elbows, but his body was recalcitrant in responding.

He turned his head, and through his bleary eyes, Phlox watched Commander Tucker trying to restrain someone on the biobed opposite him. He desperately wanted to clear his mind so that he could understand what was going on.

Suddenly the person on the biobed pushed the commander away, giving Phlox full view. "Captain," he whispered. He looked at Cutler. "What happened to the captain?"

"He needs your help," Liz told him.

The urgency in her voice propelled him further. He forced himself into a sitting position. "Then prepare another stimulant for me," he ordered. He could see the doubt in her eyes. "I need to be more alert than I am if I'm going to help the captain."

Phlox pushed his legs over the side of the bed. "How long has he been like this?" he asked the commander as he waited patiently for his instructions to be followed.

"I found the captain just over half an hour ago," Trip answered. "But I don't know how long he's been in like this."

Phlox propelled himself off the bed at the same time Crewman Cutler administered the stimulant. As the drug started to do its work, Phlox stumbled over to the captain. Looking down, he worried that he may be too late.

The captain was pale, his skin pasty, he eyes blazed with pain and fear.

Phlox snatched the scanner from the crewman and performed a quick reading. When he looked at the results, he frowned. "This isn't good," Phlox muttered.

"What, what isn't good?"

Phlox ignored the commander and tried to get the captain's attention. "Captain, can you tell me what they used?"

Phlox heard a muffled scream from Cutler when the captain shot up from the bed and started shouting. "Experimental. The drug…"He heaved heavy breaths. "It was experimental, experimental."

Phlox laid his hand on the captain's shoulder and pushed him back down. "Easy, Captain," he soothed. He let Trip hold the captain as best he could as he thrashed around on the bed.

"They said… they said they didn't know how it would affect… how it would affect the human body." He gripped Trip's hand. "It burns, that's what it does. Burns, burns, burns…"

"Shh, Jon, I'm here." Trip glared at the doctor. "Isn't there something you can give him?"

Phlox shook his head. "Not until I complete my analysis to find its composition." He rubbed his eyes, still trying to overcome his lack of sleep. "In the meantime, all we can do is keep his temperature down, and I'll use the Regulan bloodworms to assist his body in purging the poison."

"I guess it's better than nothing," Trip said gazing down at his friend.

Phlox followed his gaze._ I'm sorry, captain…_

* * *

><p>T'Pol was finding it difficult to concentrate as she stared at the PADD in her hands. It was not only due to the human emotions that had been bombarding her since the captain was reported ill, but also she knew the suggestion that she had made to the admiral earlier would not meet their approval.<p>

T'Pol closed her eyes to center herself.

After nearly serving a year on Enterprise, she had grown to understand how human emotions functioned, how fragile they were, and had already decided to tread carefully.

She admired the crews' loyalty to their captain, and consoled herself with the knowledge that she was acting in their best interest, but still, if the admiral should agree, it wasn't going to be easy.

Her thoughts went to Commander Tucker. T'Pol thought she had prepared herself sufficiently to deal with the onslaught of emotions that she knew would inevitably come from him when he returned with the captain, but she was still ill-equipped for the desperation from the young engineer.

She understood the bond between the two friends was strong, and on some level, even though she knew it was against Vulcan teachings to do so, she envied their friendship.

The comm sounded, alerting T'Pol to an incoming message. She looked at the communications officer. "It's Admiral Forrest," she confirmed.

T'Pol rose from her chair. "Put it through to the captain's ready room," she ordered.

"Aye, Sub-Commander," Hoshi acknowledged then watched as the door closed behind T'Pol. She glanced at Malcolm. "Lieutenant," she called softly.

Malcolm looked up from his consol.

"I've got something," she said quietly.

Malcolm had taken the unusual step of sending her a message, telling her not to say anything in front of the Vulcan as he didn't think that they could trust her at this stage. And, after reading T'Pol's body language through the evening, Hoshi readily agreed.

She was just about to message Malcolm with what she had detected when the Admiral called. Now with the sub-commander otherwise occupied, she felt free to show the Lieutenant.

Malcolm stood and quickly made his way over to her station.

"What is it?" he asked.

Hoshi pointed to a reading. "I detected an unusual warp signature leaving Risa just before the captain was…"

Malcolm placed his hand on her shoulder when she faulted. "It's okay, Hoshi, I'm sure the captain will be fine," he said, gently.

When she inhaled deeply to steady herself, Hoshi detected the pleasant scent of Malcolm's aftershave. It sent an unexpected thrill through her. She pushed the feeling aside, though, and focused. "Thanks, Lieutenant," she mumbled then continued. "I matched the warp signature to the ships that pursed us after we freed the Suliban and I was able to track the signature to here," she said, pointing at her readings. "Then I lost it around here," she concluded looking up.

Malcolm rubbed his chin. "That correlates with my information, except I was able to track the signature to here," he said, pointing to the chart. "If it's Grat, then he's about four days away," he added.

"Do we take the chance that it is him?" Hoshi asked, softly.

Malcolm stood straight. "I know in my gut that it's Grat."

Hoshi indicated with her head toward the captain's ready room. "What do you think she's telling the Admiral?"

Malcolm followed her gaze. "I don't know, but I'm certainly getting the feeling that whatever she tells them, it isn't going to be good for us."

Hoshi stared at the door. "I agree." She looked at Malcolm. "So what are you going to do?"

Malcolm looked deep into thought. He glanced at the ready room doors then turned back to Hoshi. "I'm going to sickbay," he said after a moment.

Hoshi leaned in. "You going to tell the commander what we found?" she whispered.

Malcolm feigned surprise. "I'm just going to check on the captain."

* * *

><p>Trip rubbed his eyes and sighed. After hours of torment, Jon had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep, largely due to the treatment that the doctor had finally found. "How long will he sleep?" he asked looking at the doctor.<p>

Phlox ran the scanner over the sleeping form. "His body has been through an enormous trauma," he said. "I would hope he will sleep a few more hours at least," he added while he checked his latest readings. "You should get some rest," he said looking at the commander.

"I'll be fine," Trip answered.

Phlox raised an eyebrow. "Commander, you haven't left his side for hours. At least have a shower and a change of clothes," he said pointing to a uniform on the bench.

Trip smiled, wearily. He'd forgotten he was still wearing a gown that was just managing to cover his Starfleet underwear. He nodded.

Phlox indicated to his left. "You can use the shower here," he invited.

Trip ran his thumb over Jon's still warm cheek. "I won't be long," he promised, quietly. He ran his fingers through Jon's hair. "Rest," he whispered then headed for the shower.

As he undressed, Trip's mind replayed the nightmare of last few hours. He was exhausted to the bone, but he had no doubt that Jon was feeling much worse.

He turned on the shower and stood under the steaming hot water. He could still feel Jon's heated body against his, the way he trembled and gripped his hand when his pain was overwhelming. His screams still echoed in his ears. But it was watching the older man break down and cry because of some nightmare memory that rattled him the core of his soul.

"You just wait till I catch up with you, Grat," he growled as he scrubbed at his skin. He was on the warpath, and he knew it. "Don't worry, Jon, I'll get him," he promised.

"Jon?" he said as he rinsed the soap off his body. "Since when did I start referring to the Cap'n as Jon?" he asked himself as he let the water ease his aching muscles. "You haven't called him by his first name since he was promoted to captain," he pondered as he switched off the taps and stepped out of the shower.

"I've always had a close relationship with him," he continued as he dried himself off. "But this is something different," he mused as he quickly dressed. "No matter, whatever it is, Jon is going to find some justice," he pledged as he walked out of the bathroom.

Trip's heart kicked up a notch in anticipation as he entered sickbay when he saw who was waiting, apparently checking on the captain. "Did you find him?" he asked, rushing forward.

Malcolm gave a curt nod. "At full warp, his ship is approximately four days from us."

Trip's adrenalin raced through his body. "Then set a course," he ordered.

"Belay that order," T'Pol interrupted.

Trip spun around and glared at her. "We're going after Grat," he told her.

T'Pol placed her hands behind her back and walked toward him. "Do I need to remind you that when the captain is incapacitated that I am in command? And in that role I make the decisions?"

Trip stood straighter. "No, T'Pol, you don't. But as your _second_ in command I'm advisin' that we change course and find this bastard."

"You are seeking revenge?"

"Damn straight I am."

"It is not logical –"

Trip rushed forward angrily. "Logical? This has nothing to do with logic." Trip's nostrils flared as he pointed to the now resting captain. "Look at what Grat did to him. We're going after him."

"Your advice is duly noted." T'Pol turned to Lieutenant Reed. "Maintain our current –"

"You heard him, Sub-Commander."

Trip turned. "Cap'n!" He ran over to his friend and gripped his hand. "Jon, how're feeling?"

Archer didn't answer. He was too busy keeping his eyes fixed on T'Pol. "Do I need to repeat myself?"

The weakness in Jon's voice alarmed Trip, but he was kept from commenting further when T'Pol took a step forward.

"Captain,' she said. "I have already spoken with Admiral Forrest. He is in agreement with me that since the Vulcan High Command have been advised of this incident, and have promised to take appropriate action, we are to set a course for a mining planet in the beta system."

"Why there?" Phlox asked.

T'Pol turned to the doctor. "A group of colonists from the Paraagan system have established a thriving settlement that would be beneficial for all to see." She turned back to the captain. "And it will allow you time to recover from your ordeal."

Trip seethed. "Ordeal!" he growled and felt the captain squeeze his hand. "You call what the Cap'n went through an ordeal?" Trip looked at his friend. "He didn't just go through an _ordeal_, T'Pol, he was tortured," he hissed, keeping his eyes locked with Jon's.

"I understand, Commander," T'Pol answered.

He heard the very un-Vulcan compassion in her voice, but when Trip saw the fire blaze in Jon's eyes, he anger churned. "No, I don't think you do," he told her, looking up.

T'Pol tilted her head slightly to one side. "Nevertheless, I am in command until the captain makes a full recovery." She turned to the lieutenant once again. "You have your orders."

With that, Trip watched as she left sickbay, leaving nothing more open for discussion. He wanted to scream at the injustice of it all.

He stared at Jon. They weren't going to hunt down Grat after all.

* * *

><p>To Be Continued…<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

"Acting Captain's Log. February 22nd, 2152.

We are currently on course for the Paraagan colony and are due to arrive in just over twelve hours. Ship functions are operating as normal, and the crew are going about their duties with efficiency despite their ongoing concern regarding the captain.

As for Captain Archer, it has been three days and eleven hours since he was admitted to sickbay. Doctor Phlox has advised that he is recovering well. However, the captain is demanding to be released to his quarters against the doctor's medical opinion. Phlox stated that he could not go against the captain's wishes, so had no choice to but comply.

End Acting Captain's log."

"The captain can be recalcitrant," T'Pol murmured as she rose from the captain's chair and walked to the viewport. As her eyes followed the stars that blurred by in a rush, she contemplated her argument with Commander Tucker in sickbay when the captain was first admitted.

She had been better prepared for his objections over her recommendation, so this time she was able to block out his emotional outburst, but that didn't mean what occurred between them hadn't left its imprint on her _katra_. It had. A part of her regretted that she proposed this course of action, but knew it was for the best. She only hoped that the commander and captain would understand.

* * *

><p>The noise of the water roaring in his ears did little to ease his pain as the captain desperately hoped it would. He still ached. He still suffered, because there was more to his pain than the physical, and it would take more than hot water to relieve it.<p>

Jon leaned his forehead against the stainless steel panel.

'_Maybe we should track down Commander Tucker…'_

"No…" he groaned as the threat intruded.

'_See if that will loosen the captain's lips…'_

Jon turned and supported his back against the shower wall. Taking a shaky breath, he closed his eyes and tried to stop the memories from overwhelming him.

"_I can always lure him here…"_

A lump rose in his throat. His body started to tremble.

"_Where do I find Silik? "Where is he?"_

_He writhed as pain sliced through his body. "I don't know… please…"_

"Oh, god…" Jon gasped banging the back of his head up against the hard surface.

_She turned to leave._

"_Okay, okay, okay." He took deep breaths when she stopped and turned to him. "I don't know where Silik is…"_

_She turned to leave again._

"_Please… all I know is that they have helixes… "_

His heart pounded violently.

"_Where? Where are they?"_

"_Delta! The Delta quadrant…"_

He had screamed those words - screamed out the coordinates, to save Trip. "They were going to hurt him," he gasped.

"_I'm sorry we had to do this to you, Jonathan, but I need to know." _

"_Know what?" he forced out._

"_What happened to my family." She ran her hands through his hair. "They killed them, and I need to know why. And you have the knowledge as to where I can find them…"_

"Shit!" Jon pushed off the wall and snapped off the tap as her words resounded in his head.

He ran from the shower and snatched a towel off the railing, wrapping it angrily around his waist as he stumbled to the basin. He leant heavily on its side, drawing in ragged breaths before looking up.

He scrubbed away the steam from the mirror with his balled up fists and stared at his eyes through the water that ran down his face. But they weren't his eyes he was staring at. They were hers. Kayla's. They were her brown eyes boring into his soul – tearing him apart. He struggled to breathe.

"_Why don't you start by telling me about some of the places you've been. We'll get to the starship navigation later." _Her sweet voice had given nothing away. She seemed so…

"How could I be so stupid? You're a Starfleet captain and you never questioned her motives? Why?" he growled at his reflection. Archer rubbed at his face with both hands then ran his trembling fingers through his wet hair. "Enough," he hissed then spun and abruptly left his bathroom.

"Never again," he seethed as his stormed around his quarters. "Never!"

He marched to his window and, as he stared at the universe passing by in a rush, Archer's eyes sought out his invisible enemy. "Where are you?"

He stiffened involuntary when his door chime sounded. The last thing he wanted right now was to see anyone. He desperately hoped that whoever was trying to gain access, would just go away.

_No such luck_, he thought when the door opened and Trip entered.

He ignored his friend as Trip stopped just inside his quarters, obviously waiting for his response. But all the torment that he had gone through on Risa, all the pain, the fear, had settled into his veins like acid, burning away at his soul.

Archer focused on the universe as darkness filled his heart. _I'm coming for you…_

Trip looked around as he slowly entered the captain's quarters. He glanced over to Jon where he stood staring out the viewport. Even in the dimmed lighting he could see that he still looked pale. "Doctor Phlox released you already?" he said, still not believing that Phlox had let the captain go. For Trip, Jon should still be there.

Archer straightened. "He did."

"That was pretty quick. You've only just started to recover."

"Didn't feel like hanging around."

Trip shrugged. "I suppose I can understand that." He stared at Jon's back. "How're you feeling?"

"I'm fine."

After watching his friend go to hell and back in the last three days, he wasn't so convinced. "You sure?"

Jon straightened further. "I'm sure," he rasped.

Trip eyed his friend carefully as Jon stood quietly, his back still to him. His heart ached as he watched his jaw clench and unclench and his back stiffen more, but it was the look in his eyes that stirred fear in his soul.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked, tentatively, taking care not to crowd the older man.

Jon rigidly shook his head.

In the silence that followed Trip took the opportunity to study his friend more carefully. He hadn't failed to notice the darkness that flickered in his eyes as he entered. At first he put it down to Jon's illness, but as he watched the darkness deepen, Trip finally got it. He took a cautious step forward. "You're goin' after him, aren't you? Despite the admiral's orders, you're goin' after Grat?"

Jon didn't answer, but then again he didn't have to, because Trip could see it. His friend was out for revenge, and if Jon was going after Grat, well Trip wasn't going to let him go alone. "We'll have to find a way around T'Pol," he said.

Jon finally turned to face him. "What?"

"I'm coming with you."

"Trip, I don't –"

Trip stared at him. "You know, when you weren't at the shuttlepod when we arrived, I knew something was wrong." He started to close the gap between them, never taking his eyes off his. "Then when you didn't answer _Enterprise's_ hail I felt like throwing up." He came to a stop beside Jon. "But when T'Pol told me that your life signs were erratic, I thought my heart was gonna stop."

Trip closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Something stirred in the pit of his stomach, an unexpected emotion, as his mind snapped back to Risa. He could still feel the pavement stinging his feet as he had ran, could still hear the thunder of his breathing roaring in his ears. He remembered how his heart had jack hammered against his ribs when he found the captain.

He looked at Jon once again. "I never want to feel that way again," he said, and silently cursed himself for the tremor in his voice.

He felt the captain stiffen under his touch when he placed his hand on Jon's bare shoulder. "What they put you through, I could never understand. But I don't want to lose you, so I'm coming with you."

* * *

><p>Phlox stifled a yawn. He was still trying to fight off his fatigue. Less than twenty four hours sleep, rather than the two days he had been hoping for, had drained him considerably. Add to that the two medical emergencies he had dealt with, he felt more tired than he had for what seemed like a lifetime. "It's been a long week," he sighed under his breath.<p>

Looking at the captain's medical report, Phlox was concerned. He fervently wished that he could have convinced the captain to stay. Although he was healing physically, it was his mental and emotional condition that worried him the most. "You can be as stubborn as a Vulcan," he mumbled.

"Did you say something, Doctor?"

Phlox looked at Crewman Cutler. "I was just thinking," he answered.

Liz smiled. "I'm about to go off duty. Would you like to join me for a late night supper?" she asked.

Phlox considered saying no, but decided he needed a change of scenery. With one last glance at the captain's medical report, he stood. "It would be my pleasure."

* * *

><p>He didn't mean to stiffen when Trip laid his hand on his shoulder, but his skin still felt sensitive, at least that's what he told himself. He stared at his friend.<p>

Trip's touch had become his only connection, his lifeline that pulled him though his ordeal, but there was more to it - an intimacy, a closeness that he had felt once before - on Zorbal's planet when he had almost gotten Trip killed. Maybe that was the problem, he wanted to experience Trip's touch more and more.

He wasn't going to involve his friend, didn't want to put him in danger, but there was a look in Trip's eyes which told Jon he didn't have a choice. "Okay," he finally said, nodding."So what's the plan?" he asked as he sat on his bed.

Trip paced back and forth as his mind went to work. "T'Pol's already set a course for the Paraagan system. We'll be there in less than twelve hours," he said.

"Huh, she didn't waste any time," Jon replied, sourly.

Trip raised an eyebrow. "And you're surprised?"

Jon smiled, wanly. "No, not really."

Trip went back to his pacing. "The good news is that Malcolm's coordinates, where he traced Grat's ship, is along our path. If we time it right, then we can take the Suliban ship and pay Grat a visit."

"What about Malcolm?"

Trip dipped his head to the side. "Yeah, he might prove a problem, but I don't think so." He paused before looking at the captain. "No, it's more T'Pol we have to worry about."

Jon laughed softly. "No kidding."

Trip sat across from Jon. "If we can fix the cloak on the Suliban ship then we'll have the advantage," he said, maintaining his eye contact. "Then I can disable the sensors for a short time. Make it difficult for Malcolm or T'Pol to trace us once we do leave. That should give us enough time, but we'll have to be quick."

Jon eyed his friend carefully. He liked what he was hearing. _Still_. "You sure you want to do this?" he asked. The look in Trip's eyes told Jon all he needed to know. "Okay, then. When do we do it?

"Well, if I'm guessin' right, and I know I am, then we should be within reach of those coordinates in ten hours."

Jon rose from his bed. "Then we better get organized."

* * *

><p>To Be Continued…<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

My apologies for taking so long to update, real life does tend to get in the way. So, I will not keep you waiting, I have uploaded the rest of this story.

Thank you to everyone who leave reviews, they are truly appreciated...

* * *

><p>Malcolm scrubbed his face. He was weary to the bone and was looking forward to his first decent sleep since before his trip to Risa. But prior to that, he wanted to run one final check in the armory.<p>

As he headed toward his destination, Malcolm's mind drifted to Hoshi. His heart skipped a beat as he recalled her smile when they both discovered where Grat's ship was located. His breath quickened when he remembered the feel of her touch when she placed her hand on his.

Malcolm smiled. He didn't know when it happened, but at some point he had grown quite fond of the young communications officer. Now, he wanted to make their relationship more than the comfortable friendship that they currently enjoyed. "Maybe I should ask her to movie night?" he mused.

Noise from the shuttlepod launch bay caught his attention. "Bit late for the maintenance crew to be working," he mumbled as he walked to the door.

Stepping inside, Malcolm was surprised at the low lighting. "How can anyone work in the dark?" he asked as he turned the lighting up.

Malcolm headed toward the commotion he could hear coming from the rear of the launch bay. "Hello," he called as he walked around shuttlepod one. He stopped short when he realized the noise was coming from where the Suliban ship was housed. He changed directions, looking carefully around as he headed for ship.

"Malcolm."

Malcolm spun around. "Captain? I thought you were still on sick leave."

The captain walked slowly toward him. "I am."

Malcolm frowned. "Then –"

"He needed help with something."

Malcolm started. "Commander?" He folded his arms and leant back slightly. "Help with what?"

Trip shrugged. "Just a little something."

"I'm the security officer, I'll need more to go on than that," he said, taking a closer look at his two senior officers. They were passing silent messages between them. _They're obviously up to something_, he thought, as his covert training picked up the tension, _but what?_ Then everything fell into place. _Ah, well, that makes sense! _ "Right then, I'll get a few things together and join you," he said turning to leave.

"Lieutenant!"

Malcolm stopped and turned to the captain.

"I need you to stay here," he said.

Malcolm took a step forward. "But, Sir, I can be of help," he urged.

"Malcolm, if the Cap'n's going to have justice, then he needs all the help he can get."

"We need you to stay here and keep T'Pol off our tail," the captain added.

He didn't like it, but Malcolm knew they were right. Plus, if there was one thing he knew how to do, and do well, was subterfuge and misdirect. He stared at the captain. "Aye, Sir. I'll do my best."

The captain placed his hand on Malcolm's arm. "Good man."

* * *

><p>"Ensign, I believe Doctor Phlox ordered you to rest?" T'Pol said from the captain's chair.<p>

Travis took his seat at the helm. "Phlox worries too much," he said smiling as he turned back to T'Pol. Noticing the arched eyebrow, he switched on the charm. "I'm fine, Sub-Commander. I just needed to get out of my quarters. It's boring in there all alone."

T'Pol looked down at the PADD she held in her hand. "Very well," she acknowledged. "How long until we reach the Paraagan Colony?"

Travis checked his readings. "Approximately five hours, Sub-Commander," he advised then turned when he heard the lift door open. "Sir! I thought you were going off duty."

Malcolm sighed. "There's a problem with the targeting scanner. I need to run some diagnostics."

"Would that not be better achieved from the armory?" T'Pol asked.

"Usually, but in this instance it needs to be run from my station here," he answered as he sat.

Travis frowned. Something wasn't right with the lieutenant. Being raised on a cargo ship, the young boomer could tell when someone was bullshitting, and right now his bullshit meter was on override. "Is there something I can do to help?" he asked.

Malcolm looked up from his controls. "Ah, no, thank you. I'll just be a little while."

There was something else Travis learned growing up on a cargo ship - when to butt out and leave well enough alone. "Okay, Sir. Just let me know if you need any help."

Travis turned his attention back to his controls. "So, Hoshi, want to join me for movie night?"

Hoshi smiled. "Sure. Dinner first?"

Travis returned her smile. "Sounds good," he said then turned when he saw Malcolm squirm in his chair. "Are you okay, Sir?"

"Yes, yes. I'm fine, thank you, Ensign."

"If you say so, Sir," he said, though Travis knew it was a lie.

* * *

><p>Trip eyed the controls of the Suliban ship. "Ready?"<p>

"Ready," Jon replied.

Trip looked up. The captain sat rigidly in his seat, eyes fully concentrating on the expanse ahead. "Yeah, I can see that," he noted.

Jon glared at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Trip shrugged. "Nothin'. Just makin' an observation," he said. Trip reminded himself to tread more softly when it came to Jon. He could sense his friend was on edge, still brooding. He smiled when Jon slumped in his chair slightly. "Better," he mumbled.

Jon shot him a wild look. "Better than what?" he growled.

Trip shrugged again. "Better than you being all tensed up." He turned his attention back to his task. "Makes checking everythin' a little easier, don't you think?"

Jon sighed. "Sorry."

Trip kept his attention on the controls. "I understand," he said.

The only sound for a few minutes was Trip completing his last pre-launch check. A consol sounded. "Okay, good man," he murmured.

"He did it?" Jon asked sitting up straighter.

Trip nodded. "Yep. We're ready to go. Malcolm's disable the launch door sensors, no one will notice when we leave."

"What about the cloaking device?"

Trip moved his hand to another control. "Just about to initiate it right now," he said. He cast another look at Jon. Again, he was sitting rigid, almost at attention. "As stiff as an ironing board," he grumbled.

"Sorry, what did you say?" Jon asked.

Trip shook his head. "Nothin'. Just mumblin'." He looked forward. "Okay, time to go."

As the ship undocked from the shuttle bay, Trip held his breath. "Let's hope Malcolm can explain that away," he said quietly when he felt the inevitable vibration that he knew would make its way to the bridge. "Knowing T'Pol, she would have felt that."

Jon kept his eyes forward. "Let's hope."

* * *

><p>T'Pol looked up from her PADD. "What was that?" she asked, calmly.<p>

Malcolm met her gaze. He knew this was coming so had an explanation already at hand. "Ah, yes, sorry, Sub-Commander. Somehow a launch code accidently triggered itself and was preparing to fire a missile," he explained. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, giving the impression he wasn't at all amused. "I had to shut it down quickly," he added without a hint of the lie he just spun. "It wouldn't do to have a missile running rogue."

T'Pol nodded. "No," she said. "I suggest you find the problem quickly before it happens again" she ordered, turning her attention back to her PADD.

"Aye, Sub-Commander," he acknowledged then dropped his head. "I can't promise anything, though" he smirked under his breath. "Good luck, captain," he said whispered.

* * *

><p>"Can you see where we can dock?" Trip asked, breaking the silence.<p>

Jon scoured the outer hull of the ship he so desperately needed to get to. He pointed aft. "There!" he said. "Over there."

Trip nodded and adjusted his heading.

"Is the cloak holding up?" Jon asked. He was on edge, they were so close to his goal, and he wanted nothing to go wrong.

Trip kept his attention on his approach. "Relax, Cap'n, everything's going to plan."

Jon wanted desperately to take a deep breath, but his anticipation was choking him. _Soon, Kayla, soon…_

"You okay?" Trip asked.

Jon nodded. "I'm fine. Stop asking me."

Trip glided the ship into place and docked with the Tandaran vessel. After securing everything he turned to Jon. "You're not okay, so don't keep telling me you are," he challenged, gently.

Jon rubbed his eyes. He owed Trip the truth. He was, after all putting himself on the line for him. He gazed into his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm just anxious to get this done."

Trip nodded. "Okay, then let's do it," he said heading for the hatch.

Jon removed his weapon and took shallow breaths as he entered the darkened corridor of the Tandaran ship. He looked around to ensure they were alone.

"Which way do you think we should go?" Trip asked quietly, as he followed the captain's lead.

Jon looked up and down the corridor. There wasn't anything to indicate where they should start, so he took a guess. "Let's start left," he said and led the way. As they neared the corner, a voice echoed down.

"Ahh, Captain, it's good to see you again."

Jon's heart hammered against his ribs as he spun to face the man who had tortured him. He aimed his weapon high. "Grat," he hissed.

Grat smiled. "And you've brought the good commander along with you. How nice."

* * *

><p>To Be Continued…<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

T'Pol felt a slight shudder under her feet as the ship suddenly slowed. She reached for the communications button. "Engineering, report," she called.

"Crewman Rostov, Sub-commander," came the quick reply. "There's a slight malfunction in the port manifold, we had to drop out of warp," he advised.

"Has Commander Tucker given any reason as to what caused it?" she asked.

"Commander Tucker isn't here, Ma'am," he answered.

T'Pol arched an eyebrow. "Then please find him and have him report to me as soon as possible," she ordered.

"Aye, Sub-Commander."

T'Pol noticed Lieutenant Reed shift in his seat. She turned to him. "I would have thought that you would have been finished with your diagnostic by now, Lieutenant," she noted, coolly.

Malcolm sat forward and frowned. "It's more complicated than I anticipated," he answered then leant back in his chair again. "I shouldn't be much longer."

T'Pol nodded. "Very well." She turned forward. "Mister Mayweather, maintain our current heading," she ordered.

"Aye, Sub-commander," he acknowledged.

T'Pol cast another quick glance at the armory officer. There were times when the crew showed exemplary dedication to their tasks, and this was one of those times. Despite his fatigue, the lieutenant was still being diligent. She made a mental note to add a commendation to his file.

* * *

><p>Jon now regretted bringing Trip along. <em>Dammit!<em> _You should have told him no! Should have thought harder than you did! _He glared at Grat. "This is between you and me," he growled.

"Oh, I think not."

Jon spun around to face his other nemesis. "Kayla," he hissed, aiming his weapon straight for her eyes. He then stared at the man who came up beside her, aiming a weapon at his head.

Kayla smiled sweetly. "You shoot me, Captain, and the Commander dies," she warned haughtily, as she sauntered toward him. "You, however, will live," she breathed into his ear then pulled away. "Your choice."

Jon chanced a look over his shoulder. His chest tightened when he saw the two other guards that had quietly appeared and were now standing within reach of Trip, their weapons aimed at his head. Jon felt a chill run down his spine - he knew they didn't stand a chance. He nodded to Trip who, by his slow movements, reluctantly handed over his weapon.

"Who is she?" Trip asked under his breath.

Jon stiffened. "No one of importance," he snarled.

Kayla raised her eyebrow. "Now, Jonathan, don't be like that," she teased. "After all, we _did_ spend a wonderful night together."

Jon searched his memory. Other than their initial encounter, he didn't remember anything to which she was alluding. He stared at her with ice in his soul. "Then it was a forgettable experience," he told her.

Kayla laughed, mirthlessly. "Touché!" She cocked her head to the side. "Are you going to introduce us?" she said, indicating with her hand at the commander.

Jon straightened, but didn't say anything in return. Right now, it was taking all his self control to not put his hands around her neck and squeeze. As it was, he didn't want to put Trip in any more danger, so he decided it could wait - she could wait. _But not for long_…

Kayla sighed. "Commander Tucker, since Jonathan seems to have lost his voice, let me do the honors." She walked around the captain until she stood in front of Trip then held her hand out. "I'm Kayla, and this is Klev," she said, turning to the man next to her. She leveled her eyes back at Trip. "My late husband's brother."

Trip kept his gaze steady and his arms at his side, his fingers balled up into a tight fist. "Charmed, I'm sure," he drawled.

Jon grunted his approval at Trip's sarcasm and stared at the woman who had completely duped him as she spun around to meet his eyes. Kayla smiled sweetly, but there was malice behind that smile which chilled Jon to his core.

"You don't look very well, Jonathan," she noted casually as she moved to stand in front of the captain once more. "Still recovering, I see."

"Go to hell, lady," he growled.

"Oh, I've already been to… your hell and back," she said bitterly, glaring at the captain.

"You should have stayed there," Jon retorted. Her slap to his face wasn't unexpected but it still stung and made his head spin. He put his hand out to stop Trip from doing anything stupid when he saw him move to intercept. "Stay put, Trip," he ordered as he rubbed his face.

"Yes, Commander, I'd stay where you are," she threatened then took the captain's arm and led him back the way they had come.

Jon glanced back and saw that Klev had taken hold of Trip. He saw that he was calm, but also waiting for a signal from him to go on the attack. He thought about, looked around and wondered if they would succeed, but without their weapons, and with Grat's men aiming theirs at them, he couldn't see an opportunity. _But it will come_, he thought.

An unexpected thought occurred to him. "How did you know we were here?"

"We didn't at first. It was just fortuitous that one of the guards heard your ship docking. Gave us time to come to meet you," Kayla answered as they came to a stop at the hatch where the Suliban ship was docked. "A handy piece of technology," she said, turning to the captain. "Tell us how it works."

"Why do you want to know?" Jon asked. He knew the answer, but he was stalling for time. He was aware that Trip had put plans in place back on _Enterprise_ should something go wrong, and they would come for them. If he couldn't think of a way out of this, then _Enterprise_ was their last resort.

"I'll need their technology if I am to succeed in destroying the Cabal," she said as if the answer was obvious.

Jon frowned. "I'm no fan of the Cabal, but why do you want to destroy them?"

Her eyes blazed. "They killed my husband, my family, Captain!" she said, angrily. "No one gets away with hurting my family." She stopped, closed her eyes, and took deep breaths, seemingly trying to calm herself. After a moment of tense silence she refocused and continued. "So, when I learned that Klev was under the employ of Colonel Grat I saw my opportunity."

"Opportunity for what?" Trip asked.

"To exact revenge," she said, staring at the commander.

Jon could see there was more to her plan than she was telling. "Then what?" he asked. She smiled, but it was an ugly smile, one that spoke of revenge and hate. Jon's pulse quickened. There was an evilness dwelling in her that he thought no one should ever be capable of harboring in their souls.

"Well, once I hunt down the Cabal and rid them out of existence, I will hunt down the rest of the Suliban and do the same." She ran her hand along Jon's chest. "And once that is accomplished, I think I'll make a visit to your…" She stared into his eyes. "Earth."

"So you want to conquer the universe," Trip said, caustically. "How pedestrian," he mumbled.

"There are a few inconsequential planets that I believe would benefit a visit from us," she answered mildly.

Jon's chest tightened at the implications. "You know we'll stop you," he said.

"I don't see how, Jonathan. You're here. Your ship is on its way elsewhere. How do you plan to stop me?" She pointed to the hatch. "Tell us how this works?"

Jon remained quiet. He may not like the Cabal, and wouldn't mind seeing the back of them himself, but putting information into the hands of this mad woman would be catastrophic.

Suddenly Trip was thrown to the ground. "Leave him alone," he demanded as Klev held a stun weapon against Trip's back.

"Then tell us how this works," Grat demanded.

"Don't tell them anything, Jon."

Jon stared in Trip's eyes and saw his determination. But when his body convulsed, and he roared in pain as the first shock was delivered, he didn't think he could comply...

* * *

><p>Malcolm resisted the urge to rub his stinging eyes to stave off his fatigue, but he couldn't take the chance that T'Pol would notice and direct him to rest. The last thing he needed right now was to be ordered from the bridge.<p>

He still felt that he should have gone along with the captain and Trip; he was the security officer after all. But he had to acknowledge in this situation, he was best needed here on the bridge, and here he was going to stay.

He had debated, just for a microsecond, whether or not to tell the sub-commander what the captain was up to, but he decided against it. Malcolm understood the need for retribution, and Grat still needed to be taken care of. He would do whatever he had to do to make sure that happened.

Malcolm hid a smile. He had to hand it to Commander Tucker for his quick thinking - a last minute plan. Before he had left, Trip had rigged a tiny explosive to one of the relays which, when Malcolm had pressed a button from his station, caused a tiny explosion near the port manifold. The resulting damage was only minor, and was easily and quickly fixed, but it was just enough to drop _Enterprise_ to warp and for the ship to turn around so that they could retrieve their missing officers, _once they were discovered missing_, Malcolm thought, wryly.

"Rostov to Sub-Commander T'Pol," came the concerned voice.

_And here we go…_ Malcolm looked up as T'Pol reached for the comm. "Go ahead," she replied.

"Sub-commander, I can't find Commander Tucker. I'm in the shuttle bay, and…"

T'Pol sat straighter. "What is it?" she prompted.

"Well, Ma'am. The Suliban ship… it's gone."

T'Pol stood quickly. "Scan the ship for Commander Tucker," she ordered her replacement at the science station.

Malcolm battled to keep his breathing even and steady. _I hope you're ready, Captain._

T'Pol's replacement shook her head. "I'm not detecting his bio sign," she advised.

"Scan for the captain," she ordered.

Malcolm's adrenalin coursed through his body with anticipation. It wouldn't be long and they would be back at Grat's ship.

"I'm not detecting the captain's either."

"Such a foolish endeavor, Captain," T'Pol said.

Malcolm kept his face neutral to hide his surprise at her gentle rebuke as T'Pol turned to him. _Well, Trip, you should have been here for that._

"Mister Reed, scan for Suliban and Tandaran ships," she ordered then turned to the helmsman. "Reverse course, Ensign."

"Aye, Sub-Commander," Travis acknowledged.

As the ship arced quickly around to re-trace its path, Malcolm put his head down and pushed a button, enabling the sensors once more. "I hope I've given you enough time to carry out your objective, Captain," he whispered when the Tandaran ship appeared. He looked up. "I have the Tandaran ship on sensors," he advised, evenly.

"Send the coordinates to the helm then set a course," T'Pol ordered. "How long till we reach them?" she asked as she stepped forward.

"At impulse, one hour, Sub-commander," Travis advised.

T'Pol turned to Malcolm. "Have Lieutenant Hess joins us for a briefing in ten minutes," she directed.

Malcolm nodded. "Aye, Sub-commander."

* * *

><p>Jon's head pounded with each shock Trip was enduring. He'd never been paralyzed by fear before, didn't know what to do. He felt useless. He was pushed to his knees and forced to watch as his friend withstood shock after shock. He wanted to cover his ears to block out the sound of Trip's pain as he moaned and rolled on the floor.<p>

"Oh, god Trip!" he whispered.

Another shock, this time Klev held the torture weapon on his back, and kept it there till the heat burned through his uniform and onto his skin. Trip's moan grew weaker.

"Tell me how the cloaking device works."

Jon knew that Trip couldn't take much more, and suddenly found his voice. "Leave him alone, Grat," he yelled. Seeing red flashes behind his eyes, his rage exploded through the bottleneck of emotions.

Jon pushed himself off the floor and rushed his antagonizer. With an almighty roar, and a powerful tackle, he took Grat to the deckplating then wrapped his hands around his neck. He started to squeeze, anger boiling in his blood making his hands shake as his grip tightened. "You're dead, Grat," he growled.

Grat sneered. "I think not," he rasped out.

Suddenly pain, sharp and burning, impaled his lower back. He yelled and rolled onto the ground, trying to catch his breath.

Grat appeared in his blurry vision. "Now tell me what we want to know."

Jon rolled his head to the side and looked into Trip's eyes. He saw the answer, knew what he had to do. "No," he gasped out as he continued to stare at Trip as his eyes closed, unable to bear the pain anymore…

* * *

><p>To Be Continued…<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

T'Pol studied the officers around the situation room. She was pleased to note that Lieutenant Hess had arrived quickly, but there was a small doubt dwelling at the back of her mind when her attention was drawn to Lieutenant Reed.

She had no proof, but her instinct was telling her that he had some involvement in what had transpired with the captain. However, and against all logic, she decided that if he was involved she would not proceed with any action, as she was certain he would have acted in good faith and under the captain's orders. Once again, she realized, she was going against her Vulcan training, something she deemed required meditation.

"The repairs won't take long," Hess advised, interrupting T'Pol's thoughts.

"How long until we have full warp speed," she asked.

"Five minutes, Ma'am."

"Very well," she acknowledged then turned to Malcolm. "Mister Reed?"

"I've worked out a way to jam their sensors so that they won't detect our approach," he said.

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "That is very efficient," she commented.

Malcolm seemed to blush. "Ah… well, yes. That's where training comes in handy."

T'Pol gestured with her hand. "Proceed," she directed.

Malcolm stood straighter. "I suggest that once we arrive at the Tandaran vessel, I take a security team and use Shuttlepod One to board their ship. Once there, we'll locate the captain and commander, and bring them back."

"Why not use the transporter?" Travis asked.

"If the captain, or commander, are injured, then using the transporter would not be advisable, especially for the captain," Doctor Phlox interjected as he arrived for the briefing. "Sorry for my tardiness, I had an unexpected delay," he said.

"No apologies are necessary, Doctor," T'Pol said bowing slightly. "You were saying," she prompted Phlox.

Phlox frowned. "The captain is still recovering, both physically and mentally" he answered. "Any type of shock to his system could set back the healing process."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "Mentally?" she questioned.

Phlox folded his arms. "The captain has been through an enormous ordeal, and not just physically, I believe mentally is where he has suffered the most." He looked at Lieutenant Reed. "I suggest you use caution when dealing with him, Lieutenant," he advised.

Malcolm stared at him like he had lost his mind. "Why would I need to use caution with the captain?" he asked.

Phlox looked around the crew before settling on Malcolm once more. "He's been traumatized and needs to act out against those who hurt him. Having that interrupted might cause him to retaliate against anyone who tries to stop him."

"What do you suggest?" T'Pol asked, placing her hands firmly behind her back.

"I'll prepare a mild sedative for the away team to use, just in case," he answered.

T'Pol nodded curtly."Very well," she acknowledged then turned to Malcolm. "And what of Colonel Grat?" she asked getting back to their original subject.

Malcolm folded his arms. "I can't promise anything, Sub-commander, but if the Colonel gets in the way of our objective, then I will have no hesitation in dealing with him."

T'Pol experienced an unexpected moment of warmth and understanding as she met his determined eyes. She kept her emotions in check and vowed to do whatever she could to assist her fellow crew in this mission. Whatever she did would have to be done covertly, of course, as it wouldn't do them any good if her superiors suspected that she was being influenced by the humans and recalled her back to Vulcan. Plus, she surmised, as the human kept reminding her, Vulcans were very adept at duplicity.

As she prepared herself mentally to continue with the briefing, she resolved that her starting point would be to keep this part of the conversation out of her logs, and then she would do her best at deflecting the negative scrutiny and reprisals she knew would come from the Vulcan High Command.

T'Pol nodded. "Understood," she said. "Choose your men and be ready to deploy by the time we arrive," she ordered then looked at the helmsman. "Once repairs to the warp drive are completed, how long do you estimate –"

"Thirty five minutes, Sub-commander," Travis advised, quickly.

It didn't surprise T'Pol that the young ensign had the answer ready. He always seemed to be aware of his surroundings. She bowed her head slightly in respect. "Once warp drive is available, go to top speed."

She took one last look around the people gathered. "I'll be in the captain's ready room if I'm needed. Admiral Forest needs to be advised of what has happened."

* * *

><p>Trip felt his body shift, then strong arms around him…<p>

"_Tell me!"_

_He gritted his teeth, trying hard not to scream as another shock was delivered to his back. He gagged at the smell of his skin burning…_

"Trip!"

He heard Jon call his name, but he wasn't ready for reality, instead he sought out sanctuary.

"_What's your name, Lieutenant?"_

"_Charles Tucker, sir, but everyone calls me Trip."_

"_Trip?"_

Trip smiled. _How haven't I notice those eyes before?_

"_We're going to be working close together over the next few years, so why don't you call me Jon?"_

"Jon," he sighed.

"Yeah?"

"_I'm giving you an order, Lieutenant. Keep your helmet on."_

"That was a close call," he slurred as he burrowed further into the tight embrace.

"_You ever been to San Francisco Zoo? Now there's something you should see."_

"We've always worked well together," he mumbled.

"Trip, you want to try and wake up now?"

_Nope, not really_, he thought.

"_No, sir. I won't take another man's water." _

"_You drink it. That's an order." _

"_Got to keep moving." _

_Jon's strong hands pulled him down. "Take the water, or I'll knock you on your ass and pour it down your throat." _

"You were always there to save my life," he said groggily, then grinned. _How did I not notice the firmness of his muscles_? He felt a warm hand on his face.

"Trip, c'mon, time to wake up." His voice was firm, but Trip still wasn't ready.

"_Get your head down!" _

"_What?" _

"_Get down!"_ _As Jon pulled him against his chest, he inhaled his scent. Cedar, sage, and salt…_

"Hmm… smells nice," he mumbled.

_Dust rained down, explosions roared in his ears. Fire all around…_

"Fire, that's what it feels like. I'm too close to the fire," Trip rambled as he felt his skin heat up.

"Trip! You're not making any sense…"

Trip flexed his neck. _God, my head hurts_…

"_Tell me!" Grat's distorted face swam in his view…_

_Jon's hazel eyes blazed with pain and regret as they met his. _

"_Tell us what we want to know?"_

_He saw the look, knew what was coming, as pain burned in his back. He tried to open his mouth to tell him no, but he was too weak…_

"Jon?"

"Yeah, it's me. Care to wake up now."

_Lord, I'm trying…_

_He'd never heard such a primal sound from Jon as he rushed at Grat. He desperately wanted to reach out and stop him from killing himself._

"Oh, god, Jon! Please, don't do it!"

"It's alright, Trip, it's over. It's safe to wake up."

Trip groaned and finally opened his eyes slowly. "Jon?"

Jon held him tighter. "You okay?"

Trip coughed. "Never better," he rasped. He blinked a few times to try to clear his vision, but it wasn't happening in a hurry. "What happened?" he slurred out.

Jon pulled Trip's body closer to his chest. "They had to stop your torture because they couldn't get information out of me once you…"

Trip understood and squeezed his hand. "You did the right thing," he said.

Jon went quiet.

"You okay?" Trip asked.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought you along," he said rocking gently.

Trip laid Jon's hand over his heart. "I'm not."

Jon stopped rocking and stared into Trip's eyes. "I never said thank you."

Trip kept his gaze steady. "For what?"

"For staying by my side."

Trip struggled into a sitting position. "You don't need to thank me," he said, staring into Jon's eyes. "I wasn't goin' anywhere."

After another moment of silence, Jon laid Trip's head on his shoulder. "Why don't you rest for a little while longer," he said.

Trip closed his eyes. "Just give me a few minutes to catch my breath then we can find a way outta here."

"Trip, you're in no condition –"

Trip pulled back and stared at him. "Neither are you," he said then frowned when Jon glanced up and tensed his jaw as if he wanted to say something. Trip quizzically searched his face for clues. "What is it?" he asked.

Jon looked away. "Nothing. It's nothing," he said quietly.

"Yeah, right," Trip mumbled. He leant back on Jon's shoulder. "So, you gonna tell me about her?"

Jon shifted restlessly. "She duped me," he said, softly. "Made me believe that she was interested, led me along…"

* * *

><p>Travis stared at his controls, but his mind was busy trying to find a way that would allow him to join the security team in boarding the Tandaran ship. His bright smile over the last few days had hidden his true feelings. He was desperate to get a piece of Grat, desperate to dish out his own form of retribution, boomer style, against the man who oversaw his, and the captain's, torture.<p>

"How long, Ensign?" Malcolm asked.

Travis feigned checking his instruments; he knew exactly how long it would take. "Three minutes, Sir," he answered. "Are we still blind to their sensors?" he asked as the Tandaran ship came into view.

Malcolm nodded. "I've also located the captain and commander," he said, looking up.

Travis glanced around the shuttle. As they would be returning with extra passengers, the lieutenant had chosen only two other men to accompany them. Travis saw his opportunity. "Lieutenant, looks like you'll need an extra hand?"

Malcolm eyed him steadily. "We need you to stay with the shuttle in case things go wrong," he answered.

He thought quickly. "I'll leave everything ready," he said, hopefully. He didn't want to reveal his true intentions, but when he saw the doubt on Malcolm's face, he continued. "Sir, I need to be in on this," he pressed.

After a moment of silence, Malcolm finally nodded. "I understand."

Travis kept his anticipation close to his chest as he navigated the shuttle into position.

"Let's get our officers," Malcolm said with determination as he handed Travis a weapon.

* * *

><p>Jon watched carefully as Trip manipulated the door controls. He was still concerned that Trip wasn't up for much more. Judging by the angry burns he could see on his friend's back, he knew this to be true.<p>

"Trip, why don't you let me try?" he said.

Trip shook his head. "Nope, I've almost got it," he murmured.

Jon shook his head. "You can be a real stubborn SOB," he said, sarcastically.

Trip eyed him. "Look who's talking!"

Jon fought hard to hold his smile at bay, but when Trip wriggled his eyebrows, he couldn't help himself. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he conceded.

"Damn straight, I am," Trip declared as he went back to picking the lock.

Suddenly the door clicked and swung open, sending both men into high alert. Jon went to check things out but before he could, two guards burst into the room. Without thinking, Jon tackled one of the men to the ground and punched him hard around his head.

Noise roared in his ears, and he lost track of reality as he kept pummeling away. He didn't feel any pain as visions of his ordeal back on Risa replayed with every punch.

"She tricked me," he growled as he slammed his fist into the guard's face. "She hurt me. She harmed my friend," he grunted as he landed another punch. "I want to –"

A hand, stopping him mid flight, caused him to swing around and raise his arm, ready to hit back.

"Jon! No, it's me!"

Trip's panicked voice, and his outstretched hands, broke through his blind rage. He dropped his arm and bent at the waist, heaving in deep breaths as he forced his anger to subside. He felt Trip's hand rubbing his back as he tried to refocus. "_Shit! I could have hurt him._ "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he gasped.

"It's alright, Jon," Trip soothed.

Jon swallowed the bile that rose from his stomach as he stood straight. He stared at Trip. "I guess I'm a bit angry," he said.

Trip grimly smiled. "Don't blame ya."

Jon nodded a few times, but he still felt sick at the thought that he had almost hurt his best friend.

Trip squeezed his arm. "You ready to finish the job?"

Jon stared into his eyes. He contemplated if now was the time to tell him how he felt about his friend, how his feelings had changed. He almost had said something before, when Trip was recovering, however he didn't go through with it. But now he wondered if it might be the right time, just in case they didn't make it through.

"I know," Trip broke the silence.

Jon looked at him surprised. His pulse sped up. "Trip… I…"

Trip squeezed Jon's arm tighter. "We'll talk about it later, when we get back home," he said.

Jon straightened. "Then let's get this done." He walked quietly to the door and snuck his head around the corner to quickly check if the coast was clear. He turned back to Trip. "No one around," he said.

Trip had retrieved the weapons the guards had on them and joined Jon at the door. "Then let's do it," he said, handing one of the weapons to Jon.

Jon nodded and led the way. His heartbeat kicked up as they skulked around the empty corridor, searching for their prey. Jon held up his hand and stopped when he heard voices up ahead. He pointed in the direction where he heard talking. Trip nodded, and they quietly inched their way forward.

Jon's breathe quickened when he recognized one of the voices. He smirked. _Coming for you_, he thought with grim satisfaction. They slowed just before the bend. Jon closed his eyes and listened.

"You don't understand," Grat was saying.

"Oh, I do, Colonel. Do you?"

Jon turned the corner. "Explain it to me," he demanded, aiming his weapon directly at Kayla's heart.

Trip aimed his weapon on Grat. "I wouldn't," he warned when Grat went for his own weapon. "I'm just itching to pull this trigger."

Jon stared at the defiant woman standing in front of him who had caused all his pain. He wanted to end it here, right now, but a part of him also wanted to see her to suffer, wanted her to not know when death was coming.

"What are you going to do now?" Kayla challenged.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Klev and two guards, one in particular bloodied and bruised, ran around the corner, their weapons raised.

"Klev!" Kayla yelled.

Jon applied pressure on the trigger. "See you in hell," he growled ruthlessly. But before he could fire, two streams of light streaked across the corridor, hitting the two Tandaran guards in the centre of their backs, dropping them to the deck.

As Klev aimed his weapon at Trip, Malcolm came into view, closely followed by Travis and two other security officers.

Travis was the first to fire, hitting Klev in the chest. The dark look of satisfaction in the young man's eyes didn't surprise Jon, he knew all about revenge. He nodded then turned his attention back to Kayla as she ran toward him, screaming wildly. "Time," he whispered and pulled the trigger.

Two beams of light cut through the air as Trip simultaneously fired his weapon. Kayla was the first to fall; her scream quickly severed as she hit the deck, then Grat fell beside her. Jon lowered his weapon, the silence deafening in his ears.

"You okay?" Trip asked, softly.

Jon nodded. "You?"

"Fine," Trip answered.

Jon drew in ragged breaths as he tried to control his trembling hand. He had never killed in cold blood before, didn't know how to process what he had just done. He told himself that he had no choice, he had to stop her, whatever it took, but as he walked slowly over to her prone form he knew what the truth was.

Jon came to a stop and stared down. Kayla was still breathing, still had her eyes open – glaring at him with malice.

"Captain," Malcolm called softly, as he came up beside him.

"What about the rest of the ship?" he asked as he continued to stare into her eyes.

"Secure for the moment, Sir, but we should get going. Commander Tucker needs medical attention," he advised, quietly.

Jon spun and was alarmed to see that Trip had collapsed. "Then let's go," he ordered taking one last look at Kayla.

"You'll pay –"

Jon turned his back on her before she could say anymore. "As will you," he said as he rushed to his friend.

* * *

><p>To Be Continued…<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

Hoshi tried concentrating on the movie that was playing, as The Fugitive was one of her favorite classics. She had always loved this movie, with its suspense and action, but she found it hard to focus. Travis, who was sitting to the right of her, continued to be a distraction with his constant movements. Malcolm, who was sitting to her left, was pretty much doing the same.

Hoshi sighed. "Would you two please sit still?" she begged. "You're making it difficult for me to concentrate."

"Sorry," Malcolm mumbled.

"Yeah, sorry," Travis echoed.

Hoshi looked at both men. She realised they were still processing everything that happened on the away mission. She had heard from one of the security men that Travis had been forced to shoot and kill one of the Tandaran guards, which wouldn't have been easy for her friend, so she understood his edginess. Malcolm, however, was a different story.

Hoshi peered at him from the corner of her eye and watched curiously as he kept glancing in her direction. She finally turned to him. "Something on your mind, Lieutenant?" she asked.

Malcolm shifted in his seat and blushed. "Ah, no, no..." he stumbled out.

Hoshi smiled and leaned into him. "It's okay, Malcolm. Your secret is safe with me," she whispered.

Malcolm stood abruptly. "I'm sorry, I just remembered that I have something to do," he said, then quickly left.

Hoshi watched curiously as Malcolm raced out the door. "That's weird," she mused.

* * *

><p>"It's been a trying time, to say the least Doctor Lucas, and I feel I have let everybody down, especially the Captain." Phlox paused and observed his patient. "I was concerned that something like this would happen and I carry the blame for not acting earlier. I saw the warning signs but the captain can be stubborn."<p>

Phlox sighed. "There are days, Doctor, when I regret that I'm held to my Denobulan ethics. I've done what I can to minimize the damage. However, I fear I have not done enough. In any case, the captain will require ongoing counselling to assist him through this period and I promise to be there every step of the way."

"Doctor..." Liz Cutler interrupted, holding out a mug in her hand.

Phlox smiled and took the offered beverage. "Thank you, Miss Cutler," he said.

"Why don't you call me Liz?" she suggested.

Phlox huffed, surprised. "I'm not sure how appropriate that would be, especially when we're on duty."

Liz raised an eyebrow. "Then call me Liz when we're off duty," she said, then turned. "I'll be doing the re-stock if you need anything."

Phlox watched, amused, as she walked away. "On a lighter note, Doctor, it seems that I have an admirer, Crewman Cutler." He took a sip of his coffee. "She did an outstanding job of handling our emergencies. I'm aware of how difficult it was for her and I'll make sure that I de-brief her thoroughly to help her understand that what she's feeling right now is a normal reaction."

Phlox rubbed his tired eyes. "Thank you for your listening ear, Doctor Lucas. I know you understand." He put down his PADD. "As always, happiness and health to you. Your friend and colleague, Phlox."

* * *

><p>Jon held Trip's hand tight. He didn't care who saw him. He didn't care that people would know how he felt. He just wanted Trip to be okay, even though he had assurances from Phlox that he would be.<p>

He felt as guilty as hell that he had gotten Trip into this situation. The knowledge that he was responsible for Trip being hurt was eating away at his soul. "Tortured, you mean?" he growled, softly.

He had a small moment of satisfaction, knowing that he had dealt out his own retribution by leaving Kayla to die on the ship. But it was tempered by the news that T'Pol had ordered a medical team over to the vessel to provide treatment when she had been informed. It left a sour taste in his mouth that the woman who would have happily killed him was now recovering and awaiting escort from the Vulcans back to her home planet, where she would face criminal charges.

Jon chuckled mirthlessly, "Yeah right. Put on trial by her own people. That'll work," he grumbled.

"Captain, Admiral Forrest is waiting online," came the relief comm officer's voice.

Jon slowly rose to his feet and made his way over to the comm. "Route it through to sickbay," he ordered. He took a controlling breath and prepared himself to face the consequences. He fully expected that he would be removed from command, possibly even kicked out of Starfleet, but at the moment he didn't really care. Trip's fate was more important than his, and he could only hope that his friend would not be affected.

"Jonathan, how are you feeling?" the admiral asked, breaking into his thoughts.

"I'm fine, Admiral."

Forrest stared at him as if he was trying to climb into Archer's mind, to figure out what made him tick.

Jon frowned. "Admiral..." he prompted.

Forrest straightened. "Jon, I've spoken to Starfleet Command. Thanks to Doctor Phlox and Sub-commander T'Pol's intervention, you will not be held accountable for your actions."

Jon released the breath he was holding. "Thank you, Admiral," he said. "What about Commander Tucker?"

Forrest shifted uncomfortably and leaned forward in his chair. He folded his hands together. "That's a different story. Since he was in his right mind, we can find no reason not to bring him up on charges."

"Admiral –"

"Sorry Jon, but you are to return to Earth as soon as possible, where Mister Tucker will face courts martial."

Jon dropped his head. At least Malcolm's part in all of this is still unknown, he thought bitterly. He looked over to Trip, who was now awake and fully aware of what was to come. Their eyes met. Dammit...

* * *

><p>The End...<p>

* * *

><p>Yes, I is mean... :)<p> 


End file.
